Of Jasmine and Orange Blossoms

The big pretty colorful flowers are for adoration

plucked at every stop by the enraptured lover

presented to young women – stuck in their hair

They spend their short days drunk in vase

Then pine and dropping petals swept off tables

My flowers are tiny , seldom catching the eye

unlike yours attract only loyal bugs and bees

the orange blossoms, tiny but bearing juicy fruit

bitter impregnable seeds spit out to grow back

the jasmine blossoms insignificant to wandering lover’s eye

But their sweet fragrance covers the valley entire

Stopping him on his tracks to resolve thus;

Let the rose pine and the women weep

I shan’t be parted from this mystic vale

Crossroads Park

At a highway crossroads
Leading out of this City
There is a tiny little park
Where maidservants on their off day
go to meet their sweethearts.
Amidst the noise and dust
the fumes of the passing cars
the shrubs and trees
which might have otherwise been beautiful
are coated with thick dust.
Intimacy is brewed and thrives here
every sunny Sunday afternoon,
and one passes by without taking notice
only once in a while an estranged heart such as mine
stops to wonder with admiration
how this love thrives and holds its own
in this noisy, dusty and soulless city of ours.

The Sleeper in the Plains.

In the scanted plains where dust blows

where smooth barked acacias cast rickety shadows

and thistle and thorny weeds thrive

It is a vast plain wrought with silence

_____

A jumbo Elephant lies on its side

with the back of its ear bathed in red mud

he sleeps with teary but hard shut eyes

stretched out on the thorny ground

silent on its red bed – gathering throng of flies

______

The piercing heat does not twitch his skin

nor the flies set his tail to task

He is having a nap like someone with a broken heart

Might take a nap – unmoving

He sleeps in the sun Tusk-less

There are two red holes in his snout  

Secret Affair

It rained hard last night

The ran off has bit a side of the hill

and exposed a secret affair

that we suspected all along

the roots of a stout tree

hugging the side rocks of the exposed hill

naked and bare the lovers hold still.

The tree slightly sways in the wind

like nothing has happened

we pass by amazed at this union

that makes the tree ever firm

and the ground hold.

This secret love affair

Doing so much

For so many

For so long

And not seeking renown

__________________

PS: Photo by Yours Truly.